


Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire

by dragonflysoul



Series: Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e14 Mardi Gras Beads + Chair, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Papa Bear Jack, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflysoul/pseuds/dragonflysoul
Summary: Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak. Episode tag for 2x14 Mardi Gras Beads + Chair.





	Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire

Title: Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire

Author: dragonfly

Tags: drama, emotional h/c, episode tag, Papa Jack, Whumped Mac

Warnings: Spoilers for 2x14 Mardi Gras Beads + Chair

Summary: Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak.

A/N: If the muse behaves, I’m considering making this a series of independent stories.

Disclaimer: I don’t own MacGyver. I’m also not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV.

~*~MACGYVER~*~

When Jack boarded the plane, he was shocked to find MacGyver on the bench seat, curled up on his side and already asleep. He immediately stopped flirting with Dawn and headed for his boy.

“He’ll be alright, Jack,” Matty assured from the seat across the aisle from MacGyver.

Kneeling next to him, Jack slid his palm over the younger man’s shoulder blade. He didn’t like the fine tremors he felt beneath his hand. “What’s wrong with him?” Mac was usually the last to fall asleep, to finally wind down after a mission.

“He’s just had a rough day, Jack. You look like you could use a few winks yourself.”

There was something she wasn’t saying. Something he didn’t know, or hadn’t realized.  He gave her a hard look. “Matty, if—”

She held up her hand, forestalling his papa bear rant and came clean. “He got into a fight with a guy twice his size, was thrown through a window and has some bruises from driving a car into a building. He’s been up all night with the rest of us, and you’ve seen his hands—burns like that take a toll on the body.”

Clenching his jaw, Jack turned back to his charge. “He has a fever.” It was one of the first things he noticed—before he had even touched him.

She nodded, but was frowning. “It’s to be expected from the burns. He’s already been started on some powerful antibiotics and painkillers.”

Jack grimaced. Not only for what MacGyver was going through, but because the kid just didn’t mix well with drugs. He brushed a hand over the blonde hair, feeling responsible for the pain he was in. He always felt responsible—no matter how MacGyver came to hurt. It was his job to protect him; and this one was all on Jack.

“Here you go, husband.”

Dawn draped a blanket over MacGyver and Jack nodded his appreciation. After fussing with the soft material a bit, he noticed MacGyver watching him with drowsy eyes. “Hey, bud, how you feelin?”

Furrowing his brow, MacGyver hummed.

The humming was something he tended to do while injured or extremely exhausted and fighting a foggy brain.  Thankfully, Jack was well-versed in all types of Mac-Speak. “I know. I know you don’t like the drugs, but you need ‘em.”

Grunt.

“No, for as long as the doctor says,” Jack countered. “You can’t risk getting an infection, Mac.”

MacGyver wrinkled his nose and Jack knew that he had won that round. For now. “You need anything?”

“Hmm.” He shook his head slightly. “‘kay?”

“Yeah, bud, I’m okay. Not so sure I could say the same about you, though.”

“M’fine.” MacGyver blinked sluggishly; still fighting the drugs and exhaustion—but at least he was on his way to using words. “Scared me.”

…soft words that packed a punch and hit Jack square in the heart. MacGyver’s vulnerability often shown in his eyes if you knew him well enough to recognize it, but rarely in his words.

“Yeah, I know.” Jack smoothed his thumb across his fevered brow. “But thanks to you, the world is still blessed with my badass presence.”

The corner of MacGyver’s mouth twitched upwards, but only for a moment before he frowned and a pained look crossed his face.  

Jack tensed. “Where you hurtin’, buddy? Is it your hands?”

MacGyver averted his eyes, but not before they filled with tears, and not before Jack got an extremely rare, completely unguarded glimpse of just how vast and deep that pain really was. It wasn’t a surprise—he knew his boy well, but the confirmation was no less heart wrenching. “I know, bud. I know.”

He had been through a lot lately, to say the least; both physically and emotionally. “But you know I’m here for you. I’ll hold onto your paperclips until you can make those masterpieces out of them again,” he said with a reassuring smile. “And as for the other stuff…” His father, Zoe, Cage, bad guy after bad guy… “I’m right here. I’m always right here, and I always will be. You know that.” He rubbed his shoulder.

MacGyver looked down at his bandaged hands, and it wasn’t lost on Jack what he was likely thinking: that he had come so very close to breaking that promise.

Taking a deep breath, MacGyver looked up at him then with clear resolve, but watery eyes. “You look like crap.”

Jack smiled affectionately at his way of telling him to get some rest, and that he didn’t need to worry about him. The kid was as resilient as they came. He just wished he didn’t feel like he always needed to be. “I’m assuming you haven’t looked in a mirror lately, brother.”

A soft, tired smile played across MacGyver’s lips. “Too busy saving my old man.”

Jack’s vision instantly blurred and he had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump of emotion that suddenly lodged in the back of his throat. God, he loved this kid; _his_ kid. How his own blood could just walk away from him, he’d never understand. “Yeah, well old, or not, kiddo I can still kick your ass at B-Ball,” he finally managed.

“‘cause your oversized elbows,” MacGyver mumbled, eyes staying closed a little longer with every blink.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jack conceded fondly, lightly sweeping a hand through MacGyver’s hair again.

MacGyver sighed, eyelids drooping further. “Hmm ’kay?”

Jack smiled. “I swear, bud,” he promised as he continued to card his hand through his hair—because every time he did so, MacGyver’s body relaxed further into the cushion.

Finally, eyes closed, bandaged fingers twitched in Jack’s direction, seeking.

“I’m here, brother.” He brushed his thumb over MacGyver’s temple. “I’m right here.”

And that’s all it took. With one last sleepy sigh, he was out.

“Jack?” There was hesitation in Matty’s voice.

Heart aching with an overwhelming mixture of love and worry, Jack looked over to find that Dawn had settled next to Matty; genuine concern was on both of their faces.

He looked back down at his boy. MacGyver always preferred to keep everything close to the vest; he wouldn’t want anyone else to know what Jack knew: that he was struggling. “Like you said, Matty,” he smoothed the blanket over MacGyver’s shoulder, “he’s had a rough day.”

He missed the sad, knowing look Matty gave him.

“You take care of that boy of yours, husband,” Dawn told him kindly.

Swallowing thickly, Jack nodded. It was a vow he had made not long after that first fateful day back in the sandbox. “Always.”


End file.
